


Broken Arrows in the Dark

by kaffee32



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Friendship, Origin Story, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Avengers (2012), Pre-Civil War (Marvel), SHIELD, Strike Team Delta, What Happened in Budapest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:10:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6387196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaffee32/pseuds/kaffee32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clint Barton was sent by SHIELD to hunt down and kill ex-Russian spy, Natalia Romanova, he just wanted to get in and get the job over with so that he could go home.  He never expected that a chance encounter in a dark alley in St. Petersburg, Russia would change both of their lives forever.  </p><p>This is my take on the MCU relationship of Hawkeye and Black Widow, and how two completely flawed individuals came together to help save the world and each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story idea got started after I randomly heard the song Broken Arrows by Avicii. Honestly, I didn’t even like the song that much, but the lyrics stuck with me. This is strictly an MCU story, not comic related, since Clint and Natasha meet very differently in the comics. I’m also not sure if it is considered an AU since the movies never actually told us very much about how the two met. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

_'Cause it's not too late, it's not too late_  
_I, I see the hope in your heart_  
_And sometimes you lose it, sometimes you're shooting_  
_Broken arrows in the dark_  
_But I, I see the hope in your heart_  
  
_I've seen the darkness in the light_  
_The kind of blue that leaves you lost and blind_  
_The only thing that's black and white_  
_Is that you don't have to walk alone this time_

  * _Broken Arrows by Avicii_



 

**_St. Petersburg, Russia 2005_ **

Clint Barton sat quietly on a rooftop in the dark, watching the streets below.  He’d been following his target for the past three days and at this point, he was anxious to get the job over with and get back home. 

Getting into Russia and moving around was much easier than the first time he had to do it as a 22 year old new SHIELD agent just a few years after the fall of communism.  Then, it was secret boat rides in the middle of the night, clandestine meetings with translators and wilderness travel. 

This time, he was able to get into the country just by booking a hunting trip with a travel guide who was easy enough to pay off.  It even gave him a reason to bring in his bow and rifle, even if both were thoroughly checked out before he was allowed to leave the airport.  He suspected that the Canadian passport he presented helped insure that the process was smoother than it might otherwise have been.  He’d also learned to speak a little bit of Russian over the years, which made things much easier.

He was actually surprised at how easily he tracked his target down, given that she was a highly trained spy that SHIELD deemed such a serious threat to National Security that she had to be eliminated.  They’d been given a tip that she was staying at a fancy hotel in St. Petersburg, as the guest of some old red faced bureaucrat, and that they were scheduled to be there for another five days.  Armed only with a somewhat blurry picture of a red head, he was able to spot her quickly.  Her hair was blonde, a wig he suspected, and she was dressed provocatively, likely to keep the attention of the man that was her own target.

Nothing about this mission sat well with him.  She was so damn young.  It was the first thing he noticed about her.  She couldn’t have been older than 20-21 years old.  Beautiful too, but that wasn’t a surprise.  From what little they knew about the Soviet spy program that she had been a part of, these women were trained from a very early age, not only as spies and killers, but also in how to make themselves attractive to whatever type of person they were targeting. 

She was also likely in a bad position.  The program she was raised in didn’t exist anymore, having been shut down by the Russian government two years ago.  Most everyone involved had fallen off the face of the earth, likely executed, or hidden away to cover up all evidence of the program’s existence, except for her.  She’d managed to get away and became something of a freelancer.  She was well trained and willing to use her skills for the highest bidder.  Clint knew all too well what it was like to have a special skill set that was appropriate for questionable activities and feeling like you had no choice but to use them if you wanted to survive.  It also showed that she was brave as hell.  The Russians were looking for her, but here she was, back in Russia on some mission of her own.

Of course, the possibility existed that she just really enjoyed the work, but from the little bit of time he’d spent watching her, he wasn’t ready to believe that yet.  Her list of crimes was long, and some of the things that she was responsible for were shocking, but he wasn’t sure that he was the person to judge her.  After all, he was sitting on a rooftop getting ready to kill her just because SHIELD told him to.  

Clint was surprised when she and the red faced bureaucrat returned to the hotel much earlier than he expected.  They had gone out the past two nights and returned late enough that the streets around the hotel were mostly empty.  It would have been a perfect time to take the shot.   Now though, there were too many damn people around on the street for him to do it and not worry about getting away safely.  He watched them enter the hotel and relaxed his bow, cursing to himself quietly. 

If the past two nights were any indication, they’d be in for the night, which meant that he was stuck here at least one more day.  He gathered up his gear and climbed down the ladder to the alley below.  He’d go get a bite to eat, make a few phone calls and rest for a few hours before returning to the roof, hoping for better luck tomorrow.

As his boots hit the ground, he heard a sound and turned to find a man entering the alley from the road.  He dived behind a trashcan before the man could see him.  He was older than Clint, late 40’s maybe, with dark hair.  He looked impatiently at his watch before pacing the alley, obviously waiting for someone else to arrive.

Clint couldn’t believe his luck when that someone turned out to be his target, minus the blonde wig that she was wearing earlier.  Killing her in front of the hotel was proving more difficult than he’d hoped, but in an alley?  That wouldn’t be a problem.  He crouched down behind the trashcan and quietly removed his bow from his bag.  They spoke in quick Russian, and he could just barely follow the conversation.

“We meet again, Малышка.  You are late, and I was growing impatient,” the man complained to her. 

“What do you want, Vasily?” 

“What do you think I want?  There are many people searching for Natalia Romanova, and imagine my surprise when you strolled right into my brother’s restaurant, with none other than Ilya Anvilov at your side.  Turning you over to our old friends, and helping to ruin Anvilov at the same time will not only be very profitable, but bring me good will with some very important people.  Now, tell me what you know of him, and I might turn you over without hurting you first.” 

Romanova considered a moment before she spoke.  “As far as I can tell, this man has no weaknesses to exploit.  His businesses are legitimate, he doesn’t drink to excess, he calls his mother, and while he likes to be seen with a pretty woman on his arm, he is a perfect gentleman behind closed doors.  He even booked me my own room.  There have been no secret meetings or unusual phone calls.  He hired me to be his bodyguard, and nothing more.  I think it is possible that Ilya Anvilov is a good man.” 

The man grabbed her and pushed her against the wall.  “No one asked you to think, шлюха.” 

Clint didn’t know what шлюха meant, but whatever it was it earned the man a knee to the balls.  He groaned as he grabbed himself and crouched over before also taking a kick to the face that sent him flying backward to the ground.   

“I am no one’s шлюха, Vasily.  You’d do well to remember that,” she responded angrily.  “I’m also no longer a little girl, and I will not sit still while you put your hands on me.”  She grinned down at him.  “Besides, aren't I too old for you now?”  

In seconds, the man was on his feet, a knife in his hand.  Clint wondered what his best play was here.  He wasn’t sure that the man was a real threat to her, even with the knife.  The guy seemed like a bad guy, but could he sit by and watch her kill him without intervening?  On the other hand, could he really watch this guy kill her if he got the upper hand?  He realized that was a strange question, since that was exactly what he was here to do. 

“You are nothing more than an orphan, Natalia.  A little girl abandoned by a mother and father that wanted nothing to do with you.  It is true that you were lucky enough to be trained by some of the best that Russia has to offer, but to what end?  You are still just a child playing at a man’s game.” He sneered at her. “You have failed in your mission.  Ilya Anvilov will die tomorrow, but you will not see it.  Tonight you will die in this alley with no one to mourn for you.”  The man waved the knife threateningly at her. 

“I expect that you are right,” she replied flatly, before getting thrown back by him, crashing hard against the wall.  She straightened herself and took a defensive stance.  “I have been waiting to die for some time now.  Tonight seems as good as any other night.” She dived at the man, grabbing on to his right hand, which contained the knife, while using her left to punch him in the mouth.  Blood immediately began pouring from his lips. 

The fight continued with one of them gaining the upper hand before the other took it away.  The man was much stronger than she was, but she was holding her own and Clint was grudgingly impressed.  She was obviously trained well to use her small size and speed, while he was too overconfident in his strength.   

When the knife ended up getting thrown in his direction, Clint had finally had enough.  “Damn it,” he grumbled to himself, before standing up from behind the trashcan.  He nocked an arrow, pointing it in the direction of the two people fighting, and pulled the string back, letting the arrow fly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not speak Russian, but Google says that Малышка = Little Girl and Шлюха = Whore.


	2. Chapter 2

Clint came out from behind the trash can, another arrow ready to fly.  He glanced at the man on the ground with an arrow sticking out of his chest, before focusing all of his attention on the girl who was his real target.  He expected her to run, but she just stood there looking from him to the dead man on the ground.

“Go on,” she said in English.  “Get it over with.  You’ve done a great service by getting rid of that piece of filth now finish what you came here for.”

He considered her for a moment.  “How do you know I wasn’t here for him?”

“Because you haven’t been following him for the past three days, you’ve been following me.”

“You don’t know that,” he replied stupidly.

“I saw you in the lobby of the hotel.  You were quite obvious.  I’ve been waiting since then for you to do it.”  She actually smiled at him.  “Admittedly, I was not expecting arrows.  That, you’ve actually surprised me with.”

Once again, Clint was impressed.  He had spent the past three days thinking she had no idea that he was there, but she’d pegged him from the moment he first saw her.  “Why didn’t you run?” 

“You would just keep coming after me, would you not?  Maybe I’m just tired of running.”

Clint wasn’t quite sure what to do next.  She was right.  He should just finish what he came here for and get the hell out.  She was practically giving him permission to do it.  He recognized the look in her eyes, though, and it gave him pause.   It wasn’t so much defeat as weariness.  He knew exactly what it felt like to be tired of everything and ready for it to end.  For him, that end came when he was captured by SHIELD, and for her, it was supposed to end here in this alley, by his hand.

Before he could make up his mind, three men entered the alley.  Instinctively, Clint aimed his bow away from Natalia and toward them.  “Turn around and get the hell out of here if you want to live,” Clint said in passable Russian.

One of the men laughed at him.  “Should we be scared of a little child’s toy when we have a man’s weapon?”  All three men pulled out what appeared to be identical Makarov pistols.

“You all get those at a military flash sale?”  Clint quipped, keeping his bow pointed at the man speaking.  “An arrow was plenty good enough for this guy here.”  He gestured toward the dead body on the ground.

Natalia held up her hands and backed herself up slowly next to him.  “You should have taken the shot and gotten out of here.  Vasily was a low level thug, but he wasn’t stupid.  He would not have come alone,” she whispered.

“Igor couldn’t handle one little girl, I see.”  The man looked down at the body of his friend.  “But you will not be so lucky with us, Natalia Romanova.  No matter who is here to assist you.”

“Gun,” Clint whispered to her.  “Ankle holster.  Left leg.  I assume you know how to use one.”  He could feel her eyes on him, but he didn’t look away from the men in front of them.  “So how is this going to play out, boys?  You gonna let us get out of here, or are you going to join your friend?”

The man grinned at him.  “How about if you just give us the girl, and we will kill you quickly?”

Natalia threw her hands up dramatically.  “I’ll come with you.  Just please don’t hurt us.” 

The man began to laugh and everything happened in seconds.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her dive down quickly and he let his arrow fly, hitting the man who had been talking.  She was up in seconds, his gun in her hand and fired a shot at one of the two men left, while he took out the third with another arrow. 

As soon as the last man fell, he turned his bow back on her.  He expected to find her pointing the gun at him, after all, that would be the smart play.  Instead she was holding it out to him.  He sighed loudly.

“See?  This is why bows are better than guns.  Guns make too much noise.  One shot, and now everyone will be headed this way.”

“Then you’d better finish and go,” she replied.

“We’ll go together.  Keep the gun, but don’t use it unless you have to.  I don’t want innocent people getting killed.”  He grabbed his bag and began climbing the ladder, hoping to be able to get into the building from the roof, when he noticed her just standing there.  “You coming, Natalia, or are you just gonna wait here for the cops?”

She hesitated briefly before hiding the gun away in her jacket and following him.  When they reached the top of the building, he stopped to pack up his equipment, because he couldn’t very easily walk down the streets of St. Petersburg with his bow out.  He hated to do it, but he had another gun should he need it.

Natalia examined the locked door before she pulled something out of her hair and picked the lock easily.  He nodded in appreciation as they entered the building with her leading the way. 

“Once we get down to street level, go right toward the alley.  If we walk out the other way with all the commotion, we’ll look suspicious.”  He could already hear sirens in the distance.  “Once you reach the corner, go right again.”

She nodded that she understood as they made their way down the stairwell.  Once they reached the door, she did exactly what he said, even stopping to glance down the alley before being shooed away by the St. Petersburg police that had just arrived.  She turned right at the corner of the street and they were able to calmly walk on without drawing any attention from the mostly empty street.

* * *

 

Clint took over the lead and pulled a black hoodie from his bag, tossing it at her.  “Here, put this on and cover your head.  I don’t know if your friend at the hotel will be looking for you, but you’ll be less obvious this way.”

She put the hoodie on and lifted the hood over her head.  “They will not be looking for me.  Between Vasily and you, I did not expect that I would be returning.  What are you doing, exactly?  Why take me away to kill me, when you could have just done it there and left one more body?”

He wasn’t quite sure  what to say, because he really had no answer.  Once again, she was right that he should have just done his job and left.  Hell, he probably could have made it look like they all killed each other.  He couldn’t do it though because, in some way, she reminded him of himself when Fury found him.  He got a second chance, and maybe now he wanted to give her the same option.  If she didn’t want it, then he knew he’d have to deal with that too.

They walked in silence a few blocks and he stopped outside of his hotel.  It was nowhere near as fancy as the one she just came from, but it was serviceable for him.  “Are you hungry, because I am starving.”  When she said nothing, he shrugged.  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She followed him to a little deli-like place across the street that he’d eaten at a few times before.  He handed her a copy of the menu and when she tried to decline, he looked at her crossly.  “Get something.  You’ll probably just get hungry later, and there is no room service.”  He grabbed a few bottles of water and paid for everything, once she finally made a selection, then they sat in silence as they waited for the food.

His hotel room was small but it had a little sitting area with a small coffee table in one corner.   Once they got inside, he sat the food and drinks on the table, and placed his bag down beside the couch.  He turned to find her looking around the room curiously. 

“Gun please,” he demanded, as he put his hand out toward her.  She hesitated briefly before pulling it out of her waistband and handing it to him.  “Bathroom’s through that door over there.  You have to jiggle the handle after you use it, or it gets stuck.”

He pulled out his sandwich and flopped himself down on the couch.  “Sorry I don’t have anything like a toothbrush for you, but I wasn’t planning to bring anyone back here.  We’ll get you some stuff tomorrow.”  He opened a bottle of water and sat it on the table close to her, before opening one for himself.  “So tell me, what does шлюха mean?”

She chuckled softly.  “I believe you would use the word whore.  Someone who takes money or goods in exchange for sex?”  Did your government not teach you these words when they taught you to speak Russian?” 

He shrugged at her and took a sip of water.  “No.  I learned some Russian before I actually became a government employee.  Still never heard that word.”

She looked between him and the bed and frowned.  “I meant what I said.  I’m no one’s whore.  If you think that I will sleep with you because you spared my life and bought me a sandwich, you are wrong.”

It was Clint’s turn to chuckle.  “Sweetheart, that isn’t what’s happening here.   When we are done eating, you are going to go over to that bed to sleep, and I’m staying right here on this couch.  It’s been a long few days and I’m exhausted.  My name is Clint, by the way.  I already know yours.”

She gave him a quizzical look.  “I would prefer it if you called me Natasha.”

“Alright, Natasha it is then.  If you plan to kill me in my sleep, well, there is nothing I can do about that, except hope that this sandwich has bought me enough good will that you won’t try.”


	3. Chapter 3

Natasha had a hard time falling asleep.  She kept playing the past few days over and over in her mind and nothing that made any sense, brought her to where she was now, sharing a hotel room with the man that she had expected to kill her. 

When she saw him in the lobby of her hotel, her first instinct was to run.  It was obvious that he was there for her, and when an agency sends someone after you, it usually isn’t to take you alive.  Running would just mean putting off the inevitable, however.  Once they wanted you dead, they didn’t just go away because they were unsuccessful the first time.  She would spend the rest of her life, however short that might be, looking over her shoulder and wondering when they would finally catch up to her.  All for what?  So that she could live on to take a few more detestable jobs from truly horrible people?  She didn’t see the point. 

Perhaps this was better.  She could die here in Russia where she was born and abandoned, only to be trained from infancy as a weapon for the Russian government.  First the KGB when she was very small, then the GRU after the fall of communism.  There was no life for her beyond what she was, and when the government shut the Red Room down, running and selling her skills to the highest bidder became her only option. 

At first, she reasoned it as necessary.  She was only 18 when she ran and she had to survive on her own.  The good guys, or more accurately, the lesser of two evils, didn’t hire people like her.  She had to make her way into the seedy underbelly of society where they paid decently for a job well done.   She was good at what she did, having been trained by the best that Russia had to offer, and her particular talents were in demand.  There was always another job.  Always another person to get information from, another business to bring in line, another politician to destroy or another person to eliminate.  After almost three years, she was tired.

For some of the things that she'd done, she deserved death.  She knew that.  Things that she was sure she could never be forgiven for.  The irony was that the job that brought her to Russia to meet her executioner was actually not one of those things.  She was simply hired as an escort and body guard for Ilya Anvilov, an up and coming politician who seemed to actually want to change things for the better.  She knew he wouldn’t last though.  Idealistic politicians couldn’t survive in the cut throat world of Russian politics.  Still, the work was good and surprisingly honest.

As she lay awake, she could hear the man who should have killed her snoring in his sleep.  She was sure that he’d seen a file on her.  He would know her crimes and just how dangerous she was, yet he was able to fall asleep with relative ease, leaving himself completely vulnerable.  She wasn’t sure if that made him very brave or very stupid.  Then again, he was a trained asset for whatever group he represented, and likely one of their best.  She suspected that if she made a move against him, he would be up before she got halfway across the floor. 

She knew very little about this man, beyond the fact that he said his name was Clint.  He was older than her, at least ten years if she had to guess, and American.  That would narrow his organization down to the CIA or, quite possibly SHIELD.  The efficiency that he demonstrated in taking out Vasily and two of his three goons told her that he was well trained at his job.  The fact that a bow was his choice of weapon was odd, to say the least, but he was correct that it was as silent as it was deadly. 

She still had no answer for why he’d brought her here instead of doing what he came to do or letting her get caught by the police, which would have the same effect.  She assumed that he was lying when he told her that he had no intentions with her other than feeding her and giving her a bed to sleep in, and she had prepared herself for a fight.  True, she may have entertained the idea of letting him just end what had become her life, but she meant it when she told him that she was nobody’s whore.  She didn’t have to bother though.  He kept his word and now was fast asleep on the couch as promised.

Realizing that she could replay everything in her head over and over all night and still have no answers, she finally decided that she would just have to wait until tomorrow to find out what his intentions were.  For now, she came to one very important conclusion.   This man who spared her life tonight made her realize that, perhaps she wasn’t as ready to give up as she thought she was.  What she was going to do about it, she was undecided. 

Her hand slid instinctively to the corner of the bed and she gripped the headboard tightly.  It was an old habit from childhood in the Red Room when the girls would handcuff themselves to their beds at night.  She wasn’t sure that it would ever go away, but she was able to relax her mind and finally sleep.

**********

She woke a few hours later as sunshine poured in through the window.  Clint was awake as well, lying on the couch typing away on his Blackberry. 

“Morning,” he said, when she sat up in the bed. 

She nodded silently and made her way to the bathroom to attempt to clean up as best as she could.  When she came out, he was once again typing fervently into the phone.  He finished what he was doing before looking over at her again. “Don’t suppose you had a passport on you last night, did you?”

She gave him an inquisitive look.  “Of course I did.  I wasn’t planning to return to my room.”

“Great.  That will make things a lot easier.”

“Easier for what?”

“I was about to get us a couple of train tickets from St. Petersburg to Helsinki, but you’ll need a passport.  The train will be easier and much quicker than trying to go through the countryside into a more friendly country.”   His phone beeped with a message, and she watched him curiously as he responded. 

“What exactly is happening here, Clint?”  She moved herself to a more secure position between him and the door.  If she had to run, she knew that she would need any head start that she could get.

“Well, right now I’m trying to figure out the best way to get us out of here without getting caught, then I thought I might figure out what we should do about breakfast.”  He gave her an amused look.  “Why don’t you get away from the door?  You could run for it, but you wouldn’t make it halfway down the hall.”

It wasn’t a threat and it wasn’t meant to be intimidating.  It was a simple statement of fact and she considered him for a moment before taking a few steps back toward the bed and away from the door.  “Why would I leave Russia with you?  You were sent to kill me, no?”

Clint shrugged.  “Yeah.  I was.  Still will if you make me.”  She wasn’t at all surprised by the honesty in his eyes at the statement.  “I thought maybe instead, we could get somewhere safer and talk about options.”

“What sort of options do I have, really?”

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.  “Truthfully?  I’m not quite sure.  What I do know is that you might have been trying to look tough and ready to die last night, but I’m pretty sure you’re not.  Not really.  I’ve seen people who have truly given up, and they don’t fight as hard as you were fighting against that Vasily guy.”

“I did not want him to have the privilege of being responsible for my death,” she responded.

“That may be true, but I think your survival instinct kicked in and you realized that you weren’t ready to check out quite yet.  Same reason that you left with me to get away from that alley before the police came.”

“Even if that were true, why would I come with you now?  The CIA will expect you to complete your mission, and I doubt that you are going to let me go once we are safely out of Russia.”

He actually grinned at her.  “Nice try.  I’m not with the CIA.  I’m SHIELD.”

“I had a 50/50 chance.  Fine.  SHIELD will expect you to complete your mission.  What reason would I have to go with you now?”

“Because I’m offering you a chance to possibly change your situation?  Look, it’s pretty simple.  You are either going to come with me, or I will just finish what I came here to do.  You had a chance to take me out or run for it last night, but you didn’t, so that tells me that you are at least curious.  If I’m wrong, and you're just playing me?  Well, You could fight me and see what happens, but I’ve seen you fight and I think that that it could go either way.  Come with me?  I can’t promise what will happen next, but it has to be better than dying in an alley in St. Petersburg.”

Natasha considered her options.  She was very well trained in combat and she felt confident in her skills, but she was sure that he would be as well.  Besides, he had all the weapons on his side, his hand resting close to the pillow where he’d stored the guns. 

“If I go with you, what assurances do I have that SHIELD will not have someone else just finish your job?”

“I can’t make you any promises.  I just know that the people I work for are more than capable of seeing the potential hidden behind the mess.  I know because I was once the mess that they had to deal with.  Really, what do you have to lose?  What’s it gonna be Natasha?  You gonna give up or hang around and see what could be possible?”

After a moment of silence between them, she sighed.  “I am going to need something new to wear.  I will stand out in this outfit in the middle of the day at the train station.”

“Sure.  There must be a place around here to get you something more appropriate to wear.”

 “I must also have Syrniki for breakfast before we go.  No one in any other country I have ever visited knows how to properly make it.”

“We can do that,” Clint chuckled, before calling the station and reserving two tickets on the 3:00pm train.

Natasha had no idea what her next move was going to be, but for now she’d go along with Clint’s plan until a better option presented itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the idea that Clint is a well trained agent and has this dangerous assassin in his hotel room with him, but he's just like, "Ehhhhhh......I'm too tired to sit up and wait for a fight." *Snore*


	4. Chapter 4

“Damn it!” Clint cursed, as he looked up at the ceiling of the abandoned warehouse.  He was flat on his back and his whole body was aching.  “I think you broke my fucking arm.”

“Give me my passport, and I won’t hurt you anymore.”  The voice was coming from somewhere around him, but he couldn’t see where she was.

“You know I can’t do that, Natasha.  I thought we had a deal.”  Clint lifted his arm and was pleased when he could move it in spite of the pain.  There were long scratch marks running along his forearm and his wrist was swelling, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought.  He managed to sit up and ran his other hand through his hair.  “Okay, it might not be broken, but it hurts like hell,” he grumbled.

* * *

 

 

The day had gone so well.  He disposed of most of his weapons at a drop location outside of his hotel as they left.  He wouldn’t be able to get them on the train, but SHIELD had a system in place to take care of them.  He hated that this left him vulnerable, but it wouldn’t be for long.

After a brief stop at a shop down the block to get some more casual clothes for Natasha, they made their way by bus to the train station in St. Petersburg and found a place to get her Syrniki, which turned out to be similar to pancakes.  Afterward, they boarded the train and found their seats for the three and a half hour ride to Helsinki, Finland.  

It was a fairly quiet ride, interrupted only when the conductor came to take their tickets and check their passports.  When he was done, Clint took both passports from the man before Natasha could get hers, and put them away in his bag.

“Security,” he shrugged when he noticed Natasha watching him with narrowed eyes.  Later, she excused herself to go to the bathroom and he moved the passports to the inside pocket of his jacket.  He hoped they’d built up a bit of trust at this point, but he wasn’t stupid.  She was a spy, and from everything he knew about her, she was damn good at what she did.  He wasn’t going to give her the chance to get away.  When she returned, she flipped through a magazine that she picked up in the station and he typed on his Blackberry or pretended to sleep.

Hours passed until the scenery outside of their window turned from wild wilderness to urban, as they got closer to the city.  Natasha put her magazine away and glanced out of the window.   “Where will we go when we get to Helsinki?” 

“I have to contact SHIELD for extraction, and we’ll have some lunch,” he shrugged.  “Hopefully it won’t be too long.”

Once they were off the train, Clint stayed close to her.  He knew that she was likely still considering a way to escape, because he would be doing the same thing, calculating the odds of getting away and trying to figure out the best way to make it happen.  He still did it in his own head whenever he was in a new situation, and he knew from experience that what she was going through right now was one hell of a new situation. 

They found a quiet café where Clint was able to get some truly spectacular coffee and lunch for both of them.  She sat mostly quiet as he typed furiously into his Blackberry to make arrangements for extraction.  He knew that she had to have a lot of questions, but even in a friendly country, she knew better than to ask them in public.

By the time they finished their meal, his Blackberry buzzed with final instructions, and he paid the bill before they headed out to the meet location on the other side of town.  It took two Trams, three buses and a two mile walk to make sure they weren’t being followed before they finally came to the abandoned warehouse with an open field behind it, where they were to wait for the Quinjet that would pick them up.  This wasn’t a constantly maintained SHIELD site, so he swept the area, with Natasha in tow, before sending a message acknowledging that it was safe to land.

“Now we wait,” Clint shrugged at her as they made their way into the warehouse.  He dropped his bag and began poking around at the empty boxes that lined the walls. 

“When they come, what will happen?”

“First of all, please hand me the butter knife that you took from the table at lunch.”  He put his hand out impatiently and waited.

She frowned as she pulled it out of her jacket pocket handed it to him.  “You noticed.  I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, not having any weapons on you will make things go a lot easier.  Besides, what are you gonna do with this dull thing anyway?”

“You’d be surprised what I could do with it.”

“Probably not,” he replied, as he slipped the butter knife into his bag.

“Out of curiosity, if I am attacked, what am I supposed to do with no weapons?”

“You’re not supposed to hurt anyone.  Besides, I doubt very seriously that you actually need a weapon to defend yourself,” he grinned at her.  “No one is attacking anyone, though.   You just stay behind me.  I’ll explain everything.”

For the first time, he saw something like panic cross her usually calm face.  “Explain what?  They don’t know that I am with you?”

He ran his hand over his face and considered his next words carefully.  “Not really.  I decided it might be better to catch them off guard and surprise them, rather than tell them, have them get all paranoid, and show up with an army.”

The only warning he got was loud resigned sigh before her foot crashed into his stomach. His body doubled over involuntarily and he took a knee to the face before she slammed him backward onto the floor.  He looked up at her wide eyed and struggled for the breath he needed to speak.  “Nat, wait!”

“I didn’t avoid being killed in an alley in Russia just to be killed in a warehouse in Finland,” she spat out as she grabbed his bag and began rifling through it. “They won’t hesitate like you did, Barton.  They want me dead.  I may hate what I’ve been doing, but you were right.  I don’t want to die.”

Clint clutched at his stomach and managed to pull himself to a sitting position.  He could already taste blood in his mouth.  “You’re making a huge mistake, Natasha.  Just give me a minute.” 

She glared at him silently before dumping the contents of his bag out on the ground and letting loose a string of curse words in Russian.  “Where is my passport?”

He didn’t answer her and this time he was ready when she spun around and thrust her foot toward his face.  He caught her ankle with his left hand and flipped her over on to the ground.  He was on his feet in seconds hovering over her. 

“You don’t think I’d be stupid enough to leave your passport where you saw me put it, do you?  I thought we had an unspoken sort of respect for the skills here.”  He waved his arm between the two of them.  “You’re welcome for not breaking your leg.”

She was on her feet shockingly fast and rammed her shoulder into his rib cage as she pushed him back hard against the wall, pinning him there with her arm to his throat.  For the second time in a few short minutes, he found himself with the wind knocked out of him.   “Give me the passport, or I will beat you until you are unconscious and find it myself.” 

Clint grabbed her arm and although she was strong as hell for a little thing, he managed to pull her away from him.  He spun her around and pinned her arm behind her back, making her cry out in pain.  “You’re not getting the passport, Natasha.  We are going to stick to the plan only now we’re both going to need a trip to medical.”

“Did you tell them you completed your mission?”  She was struggling against him, but he just held on tighter.

“I told them that I took care of it.  I never said you were dead.”

“Maybe I will get lucky and before they kill me, I will get to see them kill you for disobeying an order.”  Her foot came up and kicked him hard on his upper inner thigh.  He groaned loudly as he let her go and she spun around to face him, hands up, ready to strike again.

“Seriously?  A few more inches to the right and I would have to tell .....” he stopped and scowled at her.  “Just have a little respect for future generations of Barton’s, please.”

Natasha laughed in spite of herself.  “I hope they do not talk as much as the current generation.”  Once again she swung her fist toward his face and he was just a split second too slow to stop it from making contact with his lip.  Blood oozed into his mouth, but he hit back at her, making contact with her own face, her lip bloodied now as well.

“So SHIELD teaches you to hit women, do they?”  She moved out of his reach and wiped at the blood on her face.

“When that woman happens to be kicking my ass?  Hell yes, they do!”

“Good.  I hate to be underestimated.”  She lunged at him once again.  Their arms locked as they pushed at each other, both trying to get the upper hand.  Natasha let go to swing at him, and he blocked it with his own hand, before he aimed a kick to her knee that she easily blocked.  They went back and forth grabbing, pushing and hitting, as he slowly moved her back toward a stack of boxes.  If he hit her just right, he could send her flying into the boxes and possibly hurt her enough to end this, but he really didn’t want to take that shot.

“So are we planning to do this for much longer?” he asked, as he blocked yet another kick from her.

“What?  Are you getting tired?”

“No.  I’m not tired.  I’m just thinking about what’s going to happen when SHIELD gets here,” he shrugged before swinging his arm toward her once again.  She grabbed it and used her momentum to flip him around, sending a sharp pain through his wrist and arm, and him falling to the floor.  As he fell, he managed to kick her hard in the stomach, sending her flying back out of his sight.

**********

Clint made it over to the wall and collapsed against it, still examining his arm.  When she appeared standing over him, he looked up at her and held up one finger.  “Give me just a minute to rest and we can resume kicking each other’s asses if you want.”

Sliding down the wall beside him, she looked every bit as exhausted as he felt.  Blood was trickling from her mouth as well as a cut above her eye that would probably need stitches.  He could see patches of deep blue forming along her arms.  She held out her hand.  “Passport,” she replied weakly.

He reached into his jacket pocket with his good hand and pulled it out.  “Here ya go,” he shrugged, as her hand closed triumphantly over the little black booklet.  “It won’t do you any good, though.  I had it flagged the minute we were off the train.  You try to use that anywhere and you can enjoy the hospitality of the Finnish police until SHIELD sends someone else to deal with you.”

“Мудак,” she grumbled. 

“Now, that word I did learn as a kid,” Clint pointed at her and chuckled.  “I may be an asshole, but I’m not stupid.  Now the question is, are you?”

Natasha sighed and threw the useless passport into the pile of clothes from his bag that she dumped out earlier.  “You still want to bring me in after all of this?” 

“Yes.  Actually I do, even more than before.  I’m impressed.  You can hang with me in a fight, and I like to think that I am pretty tough.”

She reached over and grabbed his hurt arm carefully.  “Not so tough,” she mused, as he whined loudly when she moved his arm in different directions to inspect it.  “I don’t think it’s broken.  You’ll live.”

“I usually do.”

“What makes you think I won’t just wait for another time to try and kill you?”  She began investigating her own bruises and cuts.

“Because there was a butter knife sitting right there in that bag and you never went for it, even when you had the chance.  Tough as you might be, you weren’t fighting to kill.”

She rolled her eyes at him.  “Now you believe I could use the butter knife as a weapon?”

“Oh, I always believed it, never doubted it for a minute.  I’m not dumb enough to underestimate a well-trained Russian spy.”

“But you’re dumb enough to try to recruit one.”

“Apparently,” he grinned.  “Jet should be here any minute.  Let’s get this stuff picked up and get ready.”  He scooted over to the pile and began shoving things back in his bag.  “When they get here, you let me do the talking, okay?”

Natasha nodded in agreement.  “Will they handcuff me?”

“They won’t touch you.  I’m going to try to convince them not to cuff you, but if they insist, I’ll do it and I will stay with you.  Look, if you try shit like this again, though, I won’t be able to stop what happens.  Do you understand?”

“Yes.  But if I’m attacked…….”

He cocked his head to the side and gave her a bloody grin.  “They’ll have to go through me first.”


	5. Chapter 5

When the Quinjet landed, Clint expected armed SHEILD agents pouring out when the ramp lowered.  He stood in front of Natasha holding only his duffle bag, and waited for a confrontation.  Instead, there was only Agent Phil Coulson standing alone, looking between him and Natasha curiously.  Coulson was good.  He was one of the best handlers SHIELD had, and Clint realized that there would be weapons trained on them, even if Clint couldn’t see them.

“We weren’t expecting a crowd,” Coulson said smoothly.

“Two people isn’t a crowd.  It’s not even a group.  Technically, it doesn’t even qualify as a few.”  Clint replied.  “How’d you know I wasn’t alone?”

Coulson actually smiled.  “The area is not fully guarded, but we keep an eye on things.  Besides, we’ve had eyes on you since you got off the train.  We had to make sure you weren’t compromised.”  Once again he glanced at Natasha, who was standing surprisingly still behind Clint, calmly watching the two men.  “Have you been compromised, Agent Barton?”

“If you’ve been watching, then you know I’ve followed protocol down to the letter.”

“Well, except that you were supposed to be alone when we picked you up, and you obviously didn’t complete your mission.”

“I made a different call,” Clint shrugged.  “Plans changed.  Now, are we getting on this jet, or are you going to try to kill us here.” Natasha barely moved behind him, but it was enough to get his attention.

“Two agents on the building to the left of the jet, one to the right and two behind us on the ground,” she whispered in Russian.  “I can get to the ones behind, and very likely escape, but you will be killed by the agents in front of the jet.”

Clint smiled, without taking his eyes off of Coulson.  He was impressed with how quickly she’d assessed the situation and come up with a plan.  Of course, he’d prefer it if the plan didn’t involve him dying.

“I don’t suggest that you try it, Ms. Romanova.” Coulson addressed her for the first time in English.  “When he actually follows orders, Agent Barton is one of our better agents.  It would be a shame for him to die here in this warehouse.  It’s also true that you might get away from here, but I assure you that you won’t get far.”

“You speak Russian?” Natasha questioned.

“Let’s say that I was trained as an agent during a time when every agent learned Russian.”  He focused his attention back to Clint.  “How does this play out, Barton?”

“We get on this jet and go back to the base to talk about it.  She’s clean.  No weapons, no trackers, and I think we’ve come to an understanding.”

“Yeah, judging by that black eye and busted lip you’re sporting, I’d say it was quite a discussion.” Coulson chuckled.  “She’ll have to be secured.”

Natasha tensed, and Clint held his hand up, indicating for her to remain calm.  “Or, you can trust me and show a little respect to the woman that can tell you whatever you want to know about the inner workings of the Red Room Spy program, not to mention criminal organizations operating around Europe.”

Coulson considered her for a moment.  “Alright.  No cuffs, but both of you will remain guarded the whole flight.  That means you are a passenger, not the pilot, Barton.”

“Yeah, I expected that.  Now, call off the STRIKE team so that we can move.”

Coulson picked up what looked like a small walkie talkie and gave the order for the team to stand down.  He stepped back and Clint motioned for Natasha to follow him.  She did at first, but balked halfway up the ramp.

“Nat?”  Clint looked back at her.  “It’s your choice, but there are only a few more steps between a new life or no life at all.”

“Why am I listening to you, Agent Barton?”

“Because I’m hard to ignore?  Because you know that I’m right?  Because you have nothing to lose and everything to gain.  Does it really matter at this point?  You’ve come this far and you might as well see it through.”

“Do people usually fall for his terrible pep talks?”  Natasha asked Coulson as she started moving again.

“You’d be surprised,” Coulson actually laughed, as they cleared the ramp and it began to raise behind them.

* * *

 

The ten-hour plane ride had to be one of the longest in Clint’s life.  They’d cleared Coulson for now, but he knew an even bigger threat was coming once they landed and Coulson dragged him to Nick Fury to explain what he’d done. 

He looked over at Natasha, who was just sitting quietly staring at the wall in front of her.  She could have been asleep for as still as she was, but he knew better than that.  If he were in her position, he’d be playing and re-playing every possible scenario in his head, and he had no doubt that was what she was doing at that very moment.

He didn’t regret bringing her in, but the possible consequences of that action hadn’t quite set in for him until that moment.  Once they were on US soil, SHIELD couldn’t just execute her, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t bury them both deep in some hell hole of a jail somewhere and forget about them.  Or simply stick them on a plane and take them somewhere where they could kill them.  He should have given that a bit more consideration, because he couldn’t afford to run around making impulsive decisions and easily avoidable mistakes.  Still, he knew that he made the right decision, he’d do it again if he had to, and all he could do was hope that everyone else would see that as well.

“I found the first aid kit,” Coulson sat a large metal box down between them.  “You’ll need to be checked out by medical when we land, but for now, you can clean up the blood and bandage whatever needs to be.”

Natasha didn’t move, so Clint reached over and opened the box.  “Thanks,” he replied as he started searching through the box, pulling out gauze and alcohol pads.  He held out the gauze and a bottle of saline to her, and she took it silently.

“By the way, Ms. Romanova?  The Head,” Coulson stopped and gave her an apologetic look.  “I mean the bathroom, is just right behind that door.  It’s the only one we’ve got and it’s pretty rudimentary so don’t try anything in there.”

Natasha lips curled up into the slightest smile.  “Do you think that I will drown myself in the sink?”

“No, but I like to err on the side of caution.  Besides, no sink.  It’s the most basic thing you’ve ever seen.”

“I doubt that.  I’m Russian.”

“True.  When you need to use it, just know that I have hand sanitizer.”

Natasha chuckled quietly and began cleaning off what she could with the gauze and saline.  “Thank you, Agent Coulson.  I will keep that in mind.”

“Now, can you tell me about Dottie Underwood?”

Natasha looked at him with surprise.  “Excuse me?”

“Dottie Underwood.  That’s the name we knew her by, at least.  It obviously wasn’t her real name.  She was a Russian operative working in the USA after World War 2 ended.”

“I know who she was, Agent Coulson.  I’m just surprised that the first thing you would ask me about is a woman who has very likely been dead for years, or if not, is very, very old.”

“She is something of an enigma around the agency.  She caused a lot of trouble for the SSR and in the early days of SHIELD but was supposedly an ally of Peggy Carter’s on occasion.  It’s fascinating.”

“Coulson has a bit of hero worship when it comes to Captain America, Peggy Carter and Howard Stark,” Clint chuckled.  “Pretty much anyone involved in the founding of SHIELD.  I think the man was born in the wrong decade.” 

“Oh come on, Barton.  The things they saw and did.  What they managed to accomplish with very little of the technology that we have today?  It’s cool.”

“If you say so, man.  I prefer the stuff we have now.” 

“Says the man who uses a bow and arrow as his weapon of choice,” Natasha chuckled, and Coulson joined in.

Clint huffed and pulled out his Blackberry to answer a message that he just received, but he didn’t take his attention away from Natasha and Coulson.  Even if he’d never admit it, he was also interested in their conversation.

“I have never met her,” Natasha finally answered.  “She was a hero to the girls.  Stories of her exploits, each more exaggerated than the last, were passed down from teachers to girls to motivate them to work harder and perform better.  She was a legend.  The truth though?”  She stopped just long enough to entice Coulson’s excitement, and Clint was once again reminded about how good this girl really was.  She had Coulson waiting on her next words with such anticipation that she could have easily been misdirecting him if she wanted to. 

“Yes?”  Coulson practically swooned. 

“Had she returned to Russia, she would have been everywhere.  A shining example of Russian superiority over the Capitalist Pigs of America.  Instead, there were only stories of glory with no face to a name.  I think it is very likely that she never returned to Russia.  Did she get captured or killed in America?  It’s possible.  There were other rumors that we weren’t allowed to speak of though, not that it stopped us.  Rumors that she stayed in America or some other country under a completely different name and retired on her own terms.  That is what I choose to believe, at least, and why I have always admired her.”

They passed the rest of the time in relative silence with Natasha resuming her wall staring, and Clint typing away on his phone.  Soon the jet began its descent toward Washington, and Clint realized that the shit could very well be about to hit the fan.

* * *

 

Clint stood in the office of Nick Fury with his hands behind his back, waiting.  He’d been standing there for at least ten minutes and Fury hadn’t even acknowledged his presence, his one good eye focused firmly on the computer screen in front of him.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?”  Clint finally asked, calling attention to himself.

Fury looked up from the screen, trained his eye on him, and Clint was suddenly sorry that he asked. “Yes, I did.  Care to explain to me why there is a Russian spy in medical with Coulson right now?  You know, the one I sent you to eliminate?”

“Well, we were waiting for extraction and……….”

“The only proper response to my query is that you didn’t do your damn job and created one hell of a headache for me!”  Fury cut him off, angrily.

“I called an audible, Sir.  She could be an asset to SHIELD.”

“You called an audible?”  Fury shook his head in disbelief.  “You called an audible?”  Clint marveled at the man’s ability to sound like he was screaming at you, but yet his voice was barely raised.  “Do we look like a football team, Agent Barton?  Do I look like a damn coach?”

“Well, now that you mention it, you do kind of have that…..”

“You don’t want to finish that sentence.”

“No, Sir.  I probably don’t.”  Clint folded his hands in front of himself, fell silent, and waited.

“For all I know you’ve brought a terrorist into the country and I could have your ass hauled off to Gitmo.”

Clint hadn’t actually thought about that, but it was a little too late for regrets now.  “She’s not a terrorist.  She’s practically a kid, and she is very well trained.”

“She’s a grown woman.”  Fury raised an eyebrow in the direction of the computer screen.  “Have you seen the list of crimes that she’s committed?”

Clint shrugged in response.  “You saw mine, but you still recruited me into SHIELD.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.  She makes you look like a choir boy.”

“I can’t sing worth a damn, but I’ll choose to take that as a compliment, Sir,” Clint replied with a small grin.

“You shouldn’t.”

Fury resumed his one eyed focus on the screen, and Clint resumed his standing and waiting.  He considered just leaving, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t make it to the door.

“So tell me what you expect to happen, Barton?  You brought her here, what do you think we’re supposed to do with her?”

“Talk to her.  Evaluate her.  See if I’m right, and when you see that I am, train her as an agent just like you trained me.”

“And if I find that she’s not a good fit, or she doesn’t want the job?  What then?”

“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to cross that bridge if we come to it.”  Clint mentally crossed everything in hopes that it wouldn’t happen.

“You mean you are going to cross that bridge.  This was your mission and if it needs to be completed, you will be the one to do it.”

“That means you’ll at least give it a shot?”  For the first time, Clint thought he might get out of this with his job intact and with Natasha getting the chance she deserved.

“I’ll talk to her.  On paper, her skills are pretty impressive, and you’re right that she can tell us a lot that we don’t know about the Red Room program and probably a lot more, but having information and wanting to join a side are two entirely different things.”

“Yes, Sir,” Clint responded, not wanting to push his luck.

“Look, Barton, whatever it is you think you see in her, I hope for your sake that you’re right.  For now, she’s yours to babysit.  If she steps out of line, it’s on you.   I’ll talk to her, and if I deem her to not be a threat for now, I’ll have her assigned to the barracks and you will keep an eye on her.”

“Thank you, Sir.  Coulson is making me go to Medical after I’m done here, so I’ll let her know before I head home.”

“I’m sorry, what part of babysitting her was hard for you to understand?  Until I say so, you can consider yourself assigned to the barracks too.  Don’t look at me like that.  It’s better than prison.  I’ll give you time to go home, pack a bag, and take care of things, but I want you back here three hours after you walk out that door.  Are we clear?”

“Crystal, Sir,” Clint grumbled.   He knew better to argue.  After all, he was getting what he wanted, and he supposed that it would be easier for him to look out for her if he was actually around.  Staying in the barracks was going to be a pain in the ass, though, when all he wanted to do was go home and sleep in his own bed.

* * *

 

Clint made his way to Medical, and after he was cleaned up and his arm was assessed and bandaged, he checked in with Natasha and Coulson then finally got to head out for the long drive to Centreville, Virginia.  Traffic on Rt. 66 could be a nightmare, and easily chew up most of the three hours he’d been given, but he lucked out and managed to make it home, pack his bag and still have time left to spend there before he had to go back to the Triskelion.  Not near as much time as he would like, but something was always better than nothing.

Natasha was still in with Fury and Coulson when he got back, and she looked like she was holding up pretty well when they finally exited the office just a little bit later. 

“Good job on not being late, Barton.  I’m glad you are finally remembering what following orders is like.” Fury rolled his one visible eye at him.  “So far, your new pet project is doing pretty well, though.  Peirce was impressed.”

“What about you, Nat?”  Clint asked her.  “Were you impressed with Peirce?”

Natasha shrugged.  “He’s a bureaucrat.  They’re a dime a dozen in Russia.”  She stopped and considered what she just said.  “Did I say that correctly?”

“Yep!  They’re a dime a dozen here too.  You guys done?”

“Apparently I have to have a lie detector test.”

“Oh.  The big lie detector machine.  Scary.”

“Do I look like I am scared?”

“No, but from what I’ve seen, you usually don’t.  Mind if I watch?  The questions are pretty random, and you can tell them to kick me out if they ask anything too personal.”

“Not really.  It’s something of a waste of time anyway.”

Fury turned around to look at them.  “But it’s something you have to pass in order to stay, Romanoff.”

“Passing it won’t be a problem,” she responded.

They all headed toward the Interview room, and Clint fell in step with her.  “So how was your chat with Fury?”

“He is a very interesting man.  He tells you nothing, but wants to know everything, and he likes playing games.”

“Seems like a pretty accurate assessment.  So you’re taking the test, does that mean that you have decided to hang around?”

She looked at him and laughed.  “I did not realize that I was being given a choice.”

“Well, you do have a choice, it’s just not a very good one,” he shrugged.

“Yes, I have decided to give this a shot.  I’m not much of a team player, but maybe I can learn.” 

They reached the room and Clint stopped her before she went in.  “A word of advice?  This test is probably the best designed lie detector test in the world.  No matter what you are asked, be honest.  It’s easier to have to explain something bad than get caught in a lie.  If Fury’s letting you get this far, he’s starting to see what I saw.”

“I understand.”  A small smile crossed her lips as she headed into the room.  Clint made his way to the observation room where Coulson was waiting. 

“How’s she holding up?”  Coulson looked into the room through the one-way glass as Natasha was hooked up to the machine.

“So far so good I guess.  What do you think?”

“I think you made the right call, if she can be trusted.  I guess we’re about to see if that’s true or not with this test.  I’d also like to see her skills with a gun and her ability to fight.”

Clint held up his arm, which had been placed in a brace at Medical to treat the sprain, and grinned.  “I’ve seen both.  You’ll be impressed.”

“I believe I will.”  They both turned toward the door as Fury entered the room.

“Looks like they are almost set up.”  He took a seat by the window and turned the computer screen toward himself, so that he could watch the results of the test as it happened.  “She’s pretty tough, but this will let us know if she’s honest.”

“Ready to begin?”  The agent who was going to administer the test took his seat in front of her, and she nodded silently.  “Please state your name for the record,” the man asked her.

“My name is Dorothy Gale.”  When she spoke, the Russian tinged accent was completely gone, replaced by a plain Midwestern drawl.  The man looked confused for a moment, but continued on.

“Where were you born?”

“Kansas.”

The man glanced up at the two-way mirror, but then kept going. 

“Alright, Dorothy.  Why are you here at SHIELD headquarters?”

“I was brought here by a man.  He had a heart and he was courageous, but I’m still questioning if he has a brain.”  This time Natasha looked up at the two-way mirror and smirked. 

Clint laughed in spite of himself, and the sound cut through the silence in the room like a knife.  It was more a nervous laugh than anything else because obviously she was lying on purpose, but he had no idea why.  Neither Fury or Coulson seemed amused and he started worrying about all of the ways this was going to blow back on him.  Fury began typing on the keyboard to the man in the room with her.

“What is your purpose in being here?”  Clint was pretty sure the man was repeating what Fury had typed.

“To meet with the Wizard of Oz and try to find a way home for myself and my little dog, Toto.”

“And how did you arrive?”

“I followed the Yellow Brick Road.”

And so it continued.  Every question that was asked was answered in the context of her Wizard of Oz story, and Fury alternated between watching what was happening and typing. 

“Did anyone send you here?”

“Some very nice little Munchkins.”

“Do you have any enemies?”

“The Wicked Witch is quite unhappy with me.  I did accidently drop a house on her sister.”

Fury suddenly stood up and abruptly left the room.  “This is really bad,” Clint mumbled to himself as the door slammed loudly behind him.

“What in the world is she doing?” Coulson finally asked, breaking the silence. “She’s blowing this on purpose.”  He slid over and looked at the computer screen as Fury entered the room where the test was being administered.  He stood menacingly behind the man giving the test, his eye locked with hers.

“You wash up on a deserted island alone. Sitting on the sand is a box. What is in that box?”  The man asked as Fury fumed behind him.

“A bucket of water to protect myself from the Wicked Witch.” 

Clint shook his head in disbelief.  He’d seen many tough people crumble under the one eyed gaze of Nick Fury, but Natasha didn’t even flinch.

“Why would she do this?” He rubbed his temples as the man continued questioning her, and she stuck to her story.  “She knew the consequences if she was caught lying.” 

“She’s not,” Coulson was staring at the screen in disbelief.

“She’s not what?”

“Lying.”  He turned the monitor toward Clint.  “See this line?  It shows spikes in the heartrate, commonly associated with lying.  Her heartrate is steady.  See the line under it?  It shows her breathing pattern.  It’s completely calm.  The one under that?  Eye movement.  None of them have recorded a single lie. 

“We all know she’s lying, obviously.  Except maybe about the part where she said I had no brain.  Fury looks ready to take her out right now.”

“You’re missing the point, Barton.  She just beat SHIELD’s most advanced lie detector test.  It’s probably the most accurate one in the entire world.  I don’t believe that Fury is pissed, I think he’s impressed.”

* * *

 

It turned out that Coulson was right.  Fury and the questioner kept at it for close to 30 minutes, but they couldn’t trip her up.  She managed to lie about every question she was asked, without registering a single lie on the test.  After that, she was dragged back into his office for another chat.  It was close to 9:00pm by the time Clint and Coulson were called in.

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” Fury said after they both took a seat.  “We’re going to have to revamp the entire test now because of her.  I still have to clear this with the Council, but for now, she’s in.  Coulson?  Starting tomorrow morning, I want a standard STRIKE team training program initiated.  I know she hasn’t been to the Academy, but I’m pretty sure she’s past whatever she would learn there.  Let’s put her through the paces and see if I’m right.”

“Yes Sir,” Coulson responded as he made notes to himself. 

“Barton?  You will train with her.  Show her the ropes, if necessary.  Given your lack of following orders, you could use the refresher anyway.”

“You’re kidding right?” Clint threw back his head and groaned.  “I was right though!  You’re agreeing with me!”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you ignored an order,” Fury replied.  “You’re lucky that’s the worst thing happening to you.”

“Fine,” he grumbled.

“Good.  Now that we have that sorted, get her settled into her room and get some sleep.  I want a progress report from you by lunchtime, Coulson.”  He looked down at the papers on his desk, and when nobody moved, he looked back up at them.  “Go on!  Get out of here!”

After making plans to meet Coulson in the morning, they made their way to the barracks.  On the way, they stopped by the cafeteria to grab a late dinner and carried it with them.  They were assigned rooms next to each other and Clint followed her into her room with the bag of food after putting his bag from home in his own.  The room wasn’t big, but there was a twin bed, a private bathroom, and a small kitchenette with a microwave and a tiny refrigerator.  On the bed was what Clint described as the standard issue SHIELD uniform and training clothing package, along with a Woman’s toiletry kit. 

“Don’t worry.  I can take you somewhere tomorrow to get whatever you need, but this will get you through the night,” he indicated the toiletry kit.  “You took one hell of a risk tonight, Nat.  That performance on the test was impressive, but you might want to try to play it straight in training from here on out.”

“Is that what you do?”  She raised an eyebrow at him knowingly.

“Not always, but I’m not an ex-Russian spy looking for a job.”

“Nick Fury needed to see what I could do, so I simply showed him.  True, it was a gamble, but one that paid off.  Sort of like bringing an ex-Russian spy that you were supposed to kill back with you instead.”

“Of course, what that got me was stuck back here in housing instead at home in my nice warm bed.”

“I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you.”

“Yeah, well, kick ass tomorrow and at least make it worth the trouble.”

Natasha smirked at him.  “Since we will be training together, it seems an easy promise to keep.  I’ve already proven I can kick yours”

* * *

 

Natasha kept her word and proved herself in everything they did.  Her scores at the gun range were off the charts good, and almost rivaled his own, but not quite, as he was happy to remind her any chance he got.  In the gym, however, they were surprisingly evenly matched.  Coulson made them spar for hours over the next couple of days and they had a pretty equal win/loss record by the end of it.  Like Clint, she was a fighter, and he really appreciated that about her.  It was one of the main reasons he wanted to bring her in.

They also discovered that Natasha had more than a passing knowledge of electronics, and could find her way around just about any computer system to get information.  Clint knew how to use a computer, but he wasn’t any type of hacker.  Then again, he was usually the protection for whoever was doing the hacking, so it wasn’t often that he had to try and use that particular skill.  For her part, Natasha was pleased to have something to hold over Clint’s head when he teased her about beating her at the range.

Natasha spent a large amount of time with Fury and other members of the top Brass debriefing on the Red Room and any other information that she might have.  Clint suspected that she wasn’t telling them everything, but she was sharing enough to make them happy.  He didn’t press her for information himself, figuring that if she wanted him to know something, she’d tell him.  After all, he also had secrets he wasn’t willing to share either. 

They spent their nights recovering from the day by watching movies.  It turned out that Natasha was an expert on pop culture movies of the 1980’s and 90’s.  According to her, the Red Room was modernized for all important training necessities, but their entertainment options were terrible.  One old VHS machine and a collection of old American videotapes was all that she had access to.

A week went by quickly, and other agents around the base began to take notice as they trained.  Word had gotten out about Clint’s decision not to complete his mission, and they were more than curious about their new Russian recruit.  It meant and audience for a lot of their sparring, and obnoxious comments from the, mostly male, peanut gallery.

“Wow, Barton.  I have to say, I thought you just brought back a piece of ass, but she’s got skills.” Clint had just taken a nasty fall thanks to Natasha, and one of the more outspoken guys, Agent Brock Rumlow, was standing on the side, giving her a predatory glare.  “Nothing I couldn’t handle, though.”

Clint stood up and looked angrily at the older man.  Rumlow was a little bit taller, but Clint sparred with him enough to know he could take him in a fight.  “How about you show a fellow agent some respect, asshole?”

“She’s not an agent, yet,” he smirked.  “Only reason they’re even considering the idea of bringing her on board is because you’re one of Fury’s favorites.  The rest of us wouldn’t be able to get away with bringing our fuck buddy back instead of what you were supposed to do with her.”

Clint had enough, and didn’t even hesitate before swinging at Rumlow’s face, but he was surprised when his fist didn’t connect to anything but air.  Instead, he found Rumlow lying flat on the ground with Natasha’s foot at his throat. 

“I’m sorry.  Did you have something to say?”  Natasha looked down at the man, who was still trying to catch his breath from having the wind knocked out of him.  ‘You might need to speak up.  I can’t hear you.”  She turned to Clint.  “I don’t need you fighting my battles, Barton.”

“Noted,” Clint grinned as he looked around at the crowd that was gathering.  “Good move, but we’re attracting some attention here.”  He saw other members of Rumlow’s STRIKE team stepping to the front of the crowd, and they didn’t look amused.  “Might want to let him get up, before we have a problem.”

“You already have a problem, Barton,” Rumlow growled from the floor.

Natasha moved her foot away from him and turned her attention to the five men that had stepped on to the mat.  “Hi boys,” she grinned.  “Are you here to help your friend to medical?”  She backed up until she was shoulder to shoulder with Clint as Rumlow got up and joined his team.

“Six to two,” he whispered to her as they waited to see what would happen next.  “They could at least make it difficult.”

“We should call it five and a half.”  She indicated Rumlow.  “That one is hurting, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it.”

One of the other men with Rumlow struck first, coming straight toward Clint.  He didn’t make it very far before Clint swept his leg out from under him and sent him crashing to the mat.  Rumlow managed to grab Natasha’s arm and toss her to the mat, but found himself lying next to her when Clint turned and kicked him in the back.  From there, it was an all-out assault, and one that no one else in the crowd seemed very anxious to stop.

Fists and bodies were flying in every direction.  They tried to split Clint and Natasha up, so they could gang up on them individually, but they instinctively remained shoulder to shoulder or back to back to keep that from happening.  The first guy fell and stayed down when Clint hit him in the throat, practically sending him flying off the mat. 

“Five,” Clint noted to her as Natasha grabbed his shoulder and used it to leverage herself to kick one of the men in the chest, sending him down for the count as well.

“Four,” she responded.

After knocking Rumlow back again, Natasha grabbed one of the other men at the same time Clint grabbed one, and they threw the two men into each other hard, sending them crashing into each other before they both hit the floor.  Clint took a split second to look at them and grin.  “Three and two were pretty easy.”

Now it was just Rumlow and his buddy Rollins left.  Rollins landed a perfect punch to Clint’s face, and for the second time in a week, he tasted blood.  “Damnit,” he grumbled.  “That was just starting to heal.”  Rollins just grinned and tried to do it again.  Clint was faster though, grabbing his arm and flipping him over, bringing his knee up to smash into Rollins’ back on his way down.  Rollins wasn’t going down that easily though, and grabbed Clint’s leg, yanking it out from under him as he fell.

“One?  Natasha, who was grappling with Rumlow, called out to him.

“Not yet.”  He pushed himself up quickly before Rollins could get to him and kicked him hard in the stomach before dropping himself, elbow first on his chest.  Rollins doubled over in pain.   “Yeah.  Pretty sure we’re at one now,” Clint managed to say between breaths.

Rumlow, the lone person standing, decided to go for Clint this time, and the two men traded blows back and forth until he got too close and Clint grabbed his arm, pushing him toward Natasha. 

In probably one of the most impressive moves that Clint had seen, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around Rumlow’s head, using her momentum to flip him around.  He landed on the mat with a sickening thud and both Natasha and Clint were on their feet again, back to back, looking to see if there were any more takers.

The sound of clapping came from the middle of the group, and Nick Fury made his way to stand amongst the pile of men that littered the floor in front of them.  Realizing that the show was over, the crowd began to disperse.  Clint relaxed and walked over to stand over Rumlow.

“That looked like it hurt,” he said as he held his hand out to the man.

“Ya think?  Damn.  She’s as good as you said, Director.”  Rumlow pulled himself up with Clint’s help, rubbing his neck and grinning.

“This was a set up?” Natasha looked between the men.

“More of a test, really.”  Fury answered.  “One that you two passed with flying colors.”

Slowly the men on the mat began dragging themselves up.  Fury demanded that they all take a trip to Medical despite their protestations that they were all fine, and Rumlow offered his hand to Natasha.

“Sorry about the crude comments, but I had to play it up a little bit.  Still,” he shook her hand when she finally allowed him to.  “I meant what I said.  I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever you got.  I just got promoted to STRIKE team lead, and I could use someone like you on my team.  Just something to consider.”

“Thank you, I guess,” she shrugged.

“Coulson?  Romanoff?  Barton?  My office now.” Fury demanded before walking off.  Clint grinned sideways at Natasha as they followed behind him.

“I think Rumlow was flirting with you.”

“No, I think he just enjoys getting beaten by women,” Natasha smirked.

“Same thing, isn’t it?”

“You are a very strange man, Clint Barton.”

Fury stopped in front of his office door.  “Believe me, Ms. Romanoff, that isn’t the first time Barton’s heard that.”

Clint rolled his eyes as they entered the office.  “By the way?  Isn’t your last name Romanova?” 

“It is,” Coulson answered for her.  “Women’s last names in Russia in with the A sound.”

Natasha shrugged.  “I’m actually fine with Romanoff.  They are going to keep getting it wrong anyway.”

“Romanoff it is then,” Fury said, after everyone had taken a seat.  He focused his one eye on Natasha.  “I still have a lot of reservations about this, but you’re getting a shot, Romanoff.  Paperwork is being drawn up and we’ll take care of making you legal to be in the country.”

“Thank you, Sir.  I will do my best.”

“Damn right you will.  You’ll continue to live in the barracks until we feel more comfortable with your work ethic.  Barton?  You don’t have to play shadow anymore, though.  Go home.”

“Finally!’ Clint pumped his fist in the air in celebration. “No offense, Nat.  I just really miss my house and everything in it.”

“No offense taken.  I should thank you, Clint, for not just crossing me off in that alley, for giving me a different option, and for sticking by me.”

“I’m just glad it’s working out,” he replied as he put his hand out to shake hers.  “I’m sure we’ll see each other around the office.  Who knows, maybe we’ll work together sometime.”

“Sometime?”  Fury chuckled as he watched Clint and Natasha shake hands.  “I don’t think you understand what’s going on here, either of you.  After watching you two get put through your paces together this week, not to mention taking on six of my best STRIKE guys with only Barton’s busted lip to show for it, I’ve decided that you work very well as partners.”

Both Clint and Natasha looked at Fury with surprise.  “What I do, I usually do alone,” Natasha shrugged. “I do not see how a partner will help me.”

“I work alone, too.  I always have, since joining SHIELD.  What am I gonna do with a partner?”  Clint looked to Coulson for back up.  “You know that I am more of a lone wolf type, right?”

“I do, but I have to admit, I like this idea.  Romanoff goes undercover, Barton is the protection.  You’re both perfectly capable of getting in and out of pretty much any situation, but if something goes south, you both can fight your way out if you have to.  You really do have great chemistry for a partnership if you don’t kill each other first,” Coulson replied.

“I’m glad you feel that way, Phil,” Fury fixed him with his one eye.  “Because I’m assigning you as their handler.”

“Oh, now wait a second.  I’m not really the guy for this job.  I’m used to managing STRIKE teams.”

“Well you’re in luck.  Welcome to the newest and smallest STRIKE team at SHIELD.   Designation……..DELTA.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not abandoned this. I just got busy with the end of the year and distracted by shiny things. This was a nice long chapter to (hopefully) make up for it. 
> 
> I think it's perfectly reasonable for Rollins and Rumlow to be around in 2005 when this would have happened on my timeline. Besides, they are just about the only other STRIKE agents named in the movies. :)


End file.
